


First step: Quick

by CurryJolokia



Series: The waltz of the dolls [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Bloodplay (Light), Multi, Threesome - M/M/M, Vampirism, bondage (light)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-22
Updated: 2012-05-22
Packaged: 2017-11-05 19:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/410265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CurryJolokia/pseuds/CurryJolokia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not at all as performed in the ballet Coppélia, this is the dance of the dolls who are imbued with love and life. And anatomical correctness.</p><p>A waltz: Quick-Quick-Slow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First step: Quick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alanna214](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alanna214/gifts).



> Gift fic. Happy birthday!

"Oh, you can do better than that, can't you?" The teasing, arch voice vibrated tortuously against his inner thigh. He tried to move, but the silk ribbons around his wrists and ankles, gently binding him to the corners of the bed, were a reminder of what they'd told him he could earn if he could bear to hold still for just a little longer.  
  
But goddess, they were testing his resolve.  
  
"He's trying very hard," came the second voice, this one lighter than the cocky tenor located somewhere between his legs. Behind his head, where the pillows propping up his neck and shoulders blocked the speaker from view, a chuckle that he didn't trust at all made all the short hairs stand up from his mocha-dark skin in nervous excitement.  
  
"Oh, I think he's done well enough. He deserves a prize. Don't you think, Gage?"  
  
Between his legs, the cocksure, drop-dead gorgeous young man with the jet-black hair and diamond earring grinned lewdly. "Working on it, Lloryn. Just don't you make him kick me, mm? He's twice my size and three times yours."  
  
"Maybe more," the second speaker purred, leaning forward. Their victim stretched his neck back, trying to see; Gage had been the one he'd approached in the club, asked to dance, asked to take him home. Gage had suggested  _his_  house. Suggested a little light bondage. And then there had been small, delicate hands holding him, pulling him down, with strength that no whip of a gayboy should have been able to manage. But all he could see was a lock of bright red hair, and maybe the curve of a pale smile against a pale jaw. A flash of silver. That was all.  
  
He wasn't anything to mess with, he'd always thought. Tall, broad-shouldered, and hung just as huge as his dark skin suggested he might be, he was a ladykiller whether he tied back his long hair or not. Women were a nice diversion once in a while, when he felt like taking a break from the normal routine, but usually, it was a hard, tight ass that he was looking for, a flat, trim chest and belly to scrape his teeth against, a strong shoulder to nip at as he drilled his partner into the floor. Or wall. Or bed.  
  
Tonight, however…he gasped in pain as a sharp pinch on his shoulder distracted him from the preparations that Gage was making between his legs. Something warm and slick rolled down his collarbone, headed for his sternum; he was able to catch just a glimpse of it as it proceeded, if he looked down just right. Red?  _Blood?_  
  
His horror was short-lived, though. In the next seconds, he had just enough presence of mind to wonder  _how_  and  _why_  before a flood of druglike pleasure overwhelmed his senses in one, rolling wave. His eyes rolled back, crossing, as his skin lit on fire with sensation and his cock bucked against his belly. He'd thought he was hard  _before_ ; that had been nothing, he realized, as the ache of arousal between his thighs, the pure and absolute readiness of his body to sink deep, hard, and endlessly into another human body, almost overwhelmed his ability to breathe.  
  
 _Need…god, I need, where'd that prick go,_  he thought hazily, barely paying attention to the mouth on his neck. Some little signal in the back of his brain told him he probably  _should_  be paying it more attention than he was, especially as he grew a little lightheaded.  
  
 _All my blood's in my cock,_  he thought fuzzily.  _Where IS--OH._  
  
"Theeeeere," purred the prat - Gage, right, his name was Gage - as he sank slowly, almost leisurely, onto the hard, thick cock weeping with the need for attention. "God, he's huge, Lloryn. You--nnngh, you should feel this. He's  _throbbing_  inside me. He wants to come. He wants to come  _so_  badly."   
  
Gage began to move, riding his mount with lazy, lewd confidence. His body clung around the fat cock on every thrust, dragging tight and hot and maddeningly good around it. Gage rode down again, and again, and again, bracing his hands on the broad, dark chest in front of him. Sweat slicked his brow, and he licked his lips, eyes dilated almost completely black with lust. His own cock bobbed red and flushed against his belly. His body clenched down hard around his victim's, sending white sheets of pleasure washing through the dark man's mind again and again and again.  
  
Under him, pinned between Lloryn's mouth on one end and Gage's unbelievably tight ass on the other, their victim writhed, gasping with pleasure unlike he'd ever, ever felt before. He thrust up into Gage's body, burying himself to the hilt over and over within that tight ass, and Gage took it all, without a whimper of pain, without a single grimace of discomfort.  _He's…probably a total slut,_  he thought vaguely, watching the pale, thin man with the amazing six-pack and kickable smirk ride him into the mattress.  _I thought I…was going…to be in control…_  
  
At his throat, Lloryn's mouth changed angle, the sharp pinch sank deeper into his flesh, and now the pain overwhelmed the pleasure; he shouted in alarm, finally lifting his hands to try to push off the redhead. But the satin ribbons around his wrists held him tight.  
  
 _What?_  He strained against his restraints, bucking under both the men who held him down. It was hard to concentrate; pleasure kept assaulting his mind in waves, electric zaps through the whole of his skin and muscle. His balls were tight, hard, ready against the base of his cock; the squeeze and slide of Gage's body was maddening, probably literally driving him insane as it continued, and continued, without end.  
  
"You going to let him come now, Lloryn? Had your fill?" Gage's voice was rough, a post-blow-job voice, and below him the dark man moaned helplessly, begging,  _pleading_  with his voice in hopes that Lloryn would agree.  
  
The mouth on his throat detached with a sudden yank. Droplets of blood sprayed from the wounds and off of Lloryn's mouth and teeth, spattering his own stomach and Gage's stomach and chest, as the redhead pulled off his meal.   
  
And he had a split second to think,  _I have to get these guys' numbers,_  before he was coming, his cock throbbing hard inside the tight clench of Gage's body, spilling his load deep into his body. His air came short, his eyes crossed; and as Gage slammed down one more time, pumping off his own cock into his mount's face, and he finally passed out, cock still bucking hard with orgasm though his load was spent, he heard Lloryn's light, flippant tones, and Gage's smirky, sassy tenor, whisking him into unconsciousness.  
  
"Mmm. I think we're keeping this one. What was his name, again?"  
  
"I didn't ask. Only thing I interviewed was his cock. You wanna ride him, next time? Might split you straight open."  
  
"I might like that," purred the vampire. "I think I'll warm up with you, first."


End file.
